


Halting Flight

by Angelwingsl3 (Marie_Fanwriter)



Series: Filling in the Blanks [3]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Drug Use, Episode 2, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Lucifer, References to Religion, Somebody’s Been Reading Dante’s Inferno, Whump, cannon gore, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-07-24 22:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20022058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Fanwriter/pseuds/Angelwingsl3
Summary: When Chloe finally spoke, just as he felt a drop of blood well up against the blade and slide down his chest, the words were barely above a whisper. “If I pushed this into your chest… it would kill you?”His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Yes.”She looked from his eyes back to the axe, almost as if she was deciding whether or not she should push harder. Her gaze was damp, and bottom lip trembling. “Because I’m close to you?





	Halting Flight

**Author's Note:**

> A story inspired by this [**scene**](https://youtu.be/I1e9Q6ocjpQ?t=71) in season 4, episode 2 Somebody’s Been Reading Dante’s Inferno.
> 
> Heed the tags, please! It's cannon with a little more visceral reality.

\--

“It’s just your jacket,” Chloe breathed as she pulled the cloth away from the axe. Her breath came in unsteady waves. “You’re okay.”

“Hardly,” Lucifer grumbled with just a touch of humour in his tone, it didn’t entirely cover the lingering anxiety in his voice. “It’s the second suit I’ve ruined in as many days, but, yes…” his chuckle was breathless as the adrenaline faded and Chloe pulled the axe trapping him against the wooden beam. “Are you okay?”

But she didn’t answer. Instead, her brow furrowed as she looked from Lucifer’s face down to the weapon in her hands. Orange lamplight created shadows across her features. Beyond the workshop, he could hear the security officers talking, ignorant of everything going on between him and Chloe.

Those short, choppy breaths continued as she raised the axe to his chest with both hands. Lucifer drew in a sharp breath through his nose as the metal cut into his flesh. He didn’t move or flinch. He hardly breathed as he watched her. For the first time, threads of apprehension for himself tugged at his mind-- not fear of his Father but the woman before him.

When Chloe finally spoke, just as he felt a drop of blood well up against the blade and slide down his chest, the words were barely above a whisper. “If I pushed this into your chest… it would kill you?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Yes.”

She looked from his eyes back to the axe, almost as if she was deciding whether or not she should push harder. Her gaze was damp, and bottom lip trembling. “Because I’m close to you?

“Yes.”

“But you jumped in front of it anyway.”

It wasn’t a question, this time, but he answered her query regardless. “Yes.” Lucifer took a moment to let his answer linger, but more words formed on his tongue before he knew what he was saying. “And I would do it again. And again. Don’t you know that, Detective?”

As the pressure pulled away, Lucifer exhaled the breath he was holding, and Chloe gasped. Her eyes locked to his chest, where he was bleeding in earnest now. The wide gash matched the shape of the blade perfectly. If he stayed near Chloe, it would need stitches.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as her hand rose to touch him. It was almost as though she was ensuring that the blood was real and not some trick of the light. “I’m sorry,” she said again as her fingers trailed through it.

Lucifer watched her, unable to form a response at first. But as she finally drew her gaze back to his face, he couldn’t help the small soft smile that came to his lips. “It’s all right, Detective.” 

Gently, he took her bloodied fingers in his and brought the back of her hand to his lips. Staring directly into her eyes, Lucifer placed a careful kiss on her skin. Her hand was cold against his mouth, and he lingered only a moment before releasing her, expecting that she would pull away. When she didn’t and, instead, pressed forward to slam her lips into his own, his breath was taken away for an entirely different reason.

Lucifer could feel his chest constricting. The axe made a dull thud as it impacted the dirt floor after Chloe dropped it. She was suddenly holding his face, her palms smoothing across his stubble. Unbidden, he let out a needy sound that didn’t feel like it belonged in his throat. His hands rested dead at his sides for the first few moments until his eyes slid shut, and he found a place for them on her hips.

Her pressure eased off as he began to respond in kind. Chloe’s lips were just as he remembered them: soft and sweet. He found his fingers twisting in the fabric of her jacket, holding on as the kiss deepened with her tongue swiping along his lower lip. Without pause, he opened to her, letting her take the lead as she desired.

By the time Chloe drew away, Lucifer has followed until he caught himself and opened his eyes. Their chests rose and fell in unison. Her hands were still on his face and his on her hips. Neither seemed inclined to let go. At least not until someone cleared their throat behind Chloe.

Chloe’s hands jerked away from him as she turned on the intruder. It was a paramedic Lucifer recognized from some of their other adventures. His name tag identified the brown-haired man as Smith.

“Paramedics,” he said without hiding his grin. “What’s your emergency?” The words were just this side of condescending. Had it been another day, Lucifer would have returned a snarky remark of his own. Today, however, he let Chloe handle it.

With barely a glance, she disappeared out of the workshop to ensure her perp was taken care of and left Lucifer in the medic’s capable hands. Each breath stung as it pulled at the cut, reminding him of his vulnerability. Exactly how far apart they needed to be for his immortality to return, he didn’t know.

Smith ushered him back to take a seat on one of the workbenches, a gauze compress pressed against his sternum to stanch the flow of blood. The burgundy shirt Lucifer wore ruined along with his jacket. He sighed. His tailor was going to have an aneurysm.

“You always seem to take the brunt of it, don’t you?” Smith chuckled as he worked.

Lucifer huffed a laugh along with him but winced as it made his chest ache. “You have no idea.”

Patching him up took barely five minutes. If Smith had his way, they’d be on the way to the emergency room for stitches, but Lucifer’s assurances he’d be all right eventually had him conceding. Notions of having a world-renowned plastic surgeon on speed dial assuaged Smith’s worries, not the Lucifer would need to call him.

Damn, if it didn’t hurt as he stood, but the good medic did sneak him some of the potent stuff from his kit before leaving. A few crisp hundred dollar bills always did the trick with him. The man desired little more than a comfortable lifestyle for himself and his daughter- a price that was all too easy for the Devil to pay.

As Lucifer stumbled out of the workshop, flask in hand, he caught sight of Chloe talking to a pair of LAPD officers who’d shown up since the bust. Two cars with flashing lights sat in the parking lot, parked haphazardly across the lines. Smith joined his partner in the Ambulance and together, with an officer escorting, it drove off with the perp in custody. One police car followed behind, leaving the other still flashing its lights at the back of the lot.

For a long moment, he regarded the Detective’s back before releasing a small sigh and letting his aching shoulders deflate. Lucifer needed to leave. Whatever occurred between them, he needed time to process. She effectively stabbed him. Then- then she kissed him? He didn’t understand. He took another swig of bourbon before pocketing the flask.

With Chloe so close, the drugs had their intended effect. Lucifer felt a little light-headed, woozy even, as he headed for his corvette- also haphazardly parked in four spaces. Not that he usually cared to park inside the lines. By the time his hand wrapped around the door handle, that dizziness was making him feel a bit weak in the knees. He caught himself against the door.

“Lucifer?” Concern laced Chloe’s voice. He half-turned to see her standing behind him. When she’d managed to walk over, he didn’t know. “Are you all right?”

“I will be fine, Detective,” he mumbled. It wasn’t quite a lie; he  _ would _ be eventually. He returned his attention to the car, fumbling with the keys in his pocket.

But she didn’t believe him, regardless. Her mouth twisted in that way it always did when she disapproved and she reached out to touch him. Her hand barely landed on his shoulder blade before he hissed and flinched away, bumping his hip into the car door without anywhere else to go. 

Chloe tore her palm away as though he’d burned her. “You’re not.”

The pain ebbed after a moment, and he blinked a few times to steady the world around him. “I’m not what?”

“Fine. Driving.” She shook her head, a soft smile gracing her lips. “Take your pick.” Chloe held out her hand in a silent request for him to give her the keys. “I’ll get Swanson to take my cruiser to the station.”

Lucifer regarded her from her brilliant blue eyes down to her heeled-boots. With one hand on her hip and the other extended, waiting for him to consent, he couldn’t refuse. The keys fell into her palm with little fanfare. She offered an encouraging nod toward the car, suggesting he get settled while she walked off.

Keeping his balance against the hood of the vehicle, he rounded to the other side, sitting firmly in the passenger seat. His habits more than anything, had him reaching for the sun visor and flicking open the mirror. Lucifer tilted his face to the side. He looked a mess with dried blood in his perpetual five ‘o’ clock shadow and deep circles beneath his eyes. Make-up could only cover so much by the end of the day. He checked the glove box and found a few wet naps leftover from the last time he’d been to the Mexican takeout place en route to Vegas. They were half-dried but better than nothing.

By the time Chloe joined him, Lucifer had cleaned most of the blood off and stowed a pile of detritus in the cupholder. Wordlessly, she started the car and shifted into drive. Part of him was glad of her presence; the rest remained anxious. With Chloe beside him, the light-headedness only grew stronger as they drove. So much so that he found himself drifting off with his head against the window.

It wasn’t until the gentle purr of the engine ceased that Lucifer realized they were back at Lux. He jolted awake, inhaling sharply against the chilly air of the underground garage.

“Let’s get you upstairs,” Chloe said as she rose.

Lucifer extracted himself from the vehicle without assistance. Though, as they began walking toward the elevator, he swayed, and Chloe caught his arm before it could become a full-out stumble. She quickly brushed his mumbled thanks away and didn’t let go of his arm until they’d stepped across the threshold into the lift and the door shut.

He closed his eyes to avoid looking at the troubled expression on Chloe’s face while he leaned against the back wall and waited. Perhaps combining alcohol and morphine was not the best idea with everything else weighing on him. As soon as Chloe left, he’d feel better. He just needed to convince her of that.

The bell dinged as they reached the top floor. Chloe led the way into the penthouse and Lucifer followed a few steps behind. Routine made him stop at the bar to collect a glass of scotch. The bloody cloth he’d used to attend the cut from the wine glass lay forgotten on the countertop, and their uneaten dinner had long gone cold on the coffee table. He sighed as he remembered the spilled wine. The carpet would be ruined by now.

“Should you be drinking that?” Chloe asked as he brought the glass to his lips. He shrugged noncommittally, sipping the amber liquid without pause. Her brow tightened. “Seriously, Lucifer. You don’t look well. Did you take something? Or-”

When she cut off, he put the tumbler down with a soft clink. He didn’t mean to make her worried, but he seemed to be doing that too much lately. “It was just a pain killer, Darling. It’ll wear off.”

Her frown deepened. “Lucifer-”

“Really, I’ll be fine.” He wanted to reach out and touch her, to pull Chloe into a hug but thought better of it. Instead, he picked up his glass again and swirled the finger of scotch remaining in its base. “It’s like that whole scandal with Nurse Santa and God Johnson. As soon as you’re on your way home, my angelic metabolism will kick in, and I’ll be right as rain.”

“And if I stayed?”

Lucifer’s eyes snapped up from their downcast space on the floor. He blinked a few times, attempting to process her suggestion. “I suppose it would take a few hours then.”

She closed the distance between them, one hand tentatively rose to rest on his chest beside the bandages and over his heart. Chloe’s gaze followed up the line of his throat and to his face. Her opposing hand found his jaw, and her palm was warm against his face. No doubt she could feel his heart rate increase.

“Chloe?” he whispered, uncertain.

“I don’t want to leave,” she replied, and he felt his mouth go dry. “But you’re hurt.” Chloe’s eyes shifted down to the bandage, the hand on his chest shifted brushing across the edge of the dressing. “I hurt you.”

“It’s nothing.” Lucifer gently took her hand in his, squeezing to reassure her. A weak smile spread across his face as he attempted to lighten the mood. “We’ll just count it as the second time you penetrated me.”

Chloe’s answering scoff was rewarding enough. She shook her head, smiling up at him before rising on her toes to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I suppose it is.”

Without his consent, his eyes closed, and he pressed into her palm. Exhaustion was beginning to tug against his barriers. Taking drugs had been stupid in retrospect, but it at least eased the ache in his celestial limbs. With Chloe nearby, he’d been vulnerable in the loft against Cain’s men. His wings took the brunt of the bullets and Maze needed to cut some of them free with her demon blades. Even the Divine needed time to heal after something like that.

“You should rest, Lucifer.”

For once, he didn’t argue. But his eyes remained closed as he asked: “You’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay.” Chloe’s thumb swept across his cheek and slid down his arm to gently tug him into the bedroom. Lucifer followed willingly and let himself be sat down on the edge of the bed. Chloe brushed his clumsy fingers out of the way and unfastened them herself before sliding the ripped and blood-soaked fabric off his shoulders. He winced, making her back off. “Lucifer?”

“It’s nothing for you to be concerned with, Detective,” he replied without meeting her eyes. He bent at the waist to untie his shoes. When he straightened, Chloe was staring at him looking somewhat confused. “What?”

His question seemed to knock her out of the daze. “Your scars,” she said as she moved to his side to see his back. “They’re gone.”

Lucifer nodded once. “My wings grew back.”

He caught the motion of her hand in the corner of his eye and shied away from it before she could touch the smooth skin. Chloe’s hand halted immediately and quickly drew away. “Sorry.”

But Lucifer shook his head. “S’fine.”

The sound of his shoes hitting the floor as he kicked them off, broke the otherwise tense silence. From the penthouse, they couldn’t hear Lux nor the traffic in LA’s busy streets below them. Lucifer pulled his belt off next and dropped it to the floor as well before sliding under the sheets in his suit pants. He laid down on his right side, facing the centre of the bed with his back to Chloe, trusting that she wouldn’t try to touch him again. For a few minutes, he could feel her eyes on his back.

Fabric shifted as she straightened and Lucifer expected the hear footsteps leading away toward the elevator. Instead, they drifted in the direction of the closet and master bathroom. First, there was some rummaging in the closet and then the sound of running water. When Chloe returned, the bed dipped behind him with her weight. 

“Here.” Lucifer opened his eyes to see a damp washcloth in front of his face. Tentatively, he took it while sitting up. Before he could say anything, Chloe continued. “I don’t need to tell you sleeping in eyeliner isn’t a good idea.”

He huffed at the small smile on her face but did clean his face before dragging the cloth across his chest to remove the dried blood stains from the axe. 

“Put these on.” Chloe held out a pair of pyjama pants for him. “Mind if I borrow something since I’m staying?” She was already standing, walking toward his closet again by the time he mumbled thanks and affirmation.

He was dressed and back under the sheets when she returned, somewhere in his closet she’d found a pair of his gym shorts with a drawstring to cinch tight around her hips and one of his older shirts in linen instead of silk. It was adorably big on her, sliding off her shoulder despite being buttoned to her collarbone. Carefully, Chloe slipped between the sheets on the free side of the bed and settled with one elbow on the pillow to prop up her head with her hand.

“This okay?”

He could only nod, too mystified to speak. Once again, Chloe reached out. Only this time hesitant as she neared his face, he watched her throat bob as she swallowed before letting her fingers drift across his cheek. He shivered beneath her, his eyes fell closed in a flutter of dark eyelashes, and a shaky sigh left his lips.

“Sleep, Lucifer. I’ll be here.”

\---

When morning came, Lucifer woke to an empty bed. His hand slid across the silk sheets and found them cold. A sharp inhale preceded him sitting up to see his mess of clothes gone from the floor. Bright California sunlight streamed in through the window, letting him know it was well beyond noon before he checked his phone.

The queue of messages waiting for him brought a small groan to his lips. Briefly, he scrolled through ignoring anything from Lux or his admirers for the moment. A single message from Chloe sat unread from five in the morning.

_ // Had to get Trixie to school. //  _

Of course, she did. Lucifer forced himself out of bed and to the bathroom. His clothes draped over the laundry basket and the make-shift pyjamas Chloe wore last night were there too. He stood staring at them for far too long before heading to the sink.

Lucifer stared at his reflection and rubbed his hand over his chin, assessing the damage. The dark circles beneath his eyes were smaller, and his five ‘o’ clock shadow looked more like two day’s growth. He dropped his chin and began plucking at the corner of the adhesive bandage on his chest. It came loose with a small tug. Underneath there was only the barest hint of a scar remaining.

Tossing the sticky bandage into the trash, he rid himself of his pants and stumbled into the shower. The tile was cool against his shoulder as he leaned into it, letting the too-hot water ease the aches in his back. Alone, he didn’t need to put on a brave face against the pain. With Chloe gone, his dosage of morphine and alcohol was long out of his system. He’d remedy that once he managed to get off the wall.

Without anywhere to be, Lucifer let himself embrace sloth. It wasn’t often he would admit to being lazy, today would be the exception. The shower would never run out of hot water, so he let himself bask until his fingers pruned, and his muscles relaxed into some semblance of normality. Washing his hair took a few minutes, and he didn’t care to pull any of his other products through the curly strands. It would survive a day without extra conditioning. 

Once he stepped clear of the shower stall, Lucifer dried himself and tossed the towel into the laundry to deal with later. He took some care bringing himself back to his usual glory, trimming his facial hair and nails before dressing in slacks and a shirt, forgoing shoes or a jacket. 

His feet took him into the living space where he found Chloe had cleaned up from their botched date. The only lingering reminder was the stained carpet. Lucifer found himself staring at the blemish for a while, and it took him shaking his head to break out of the memory. 

Without his sayso, he ended up at the bar.

The first scotch felt heavy in his empty stomach, but the second smoothed it down. Without Chloe, he didn’t even feel a twinge from two shots in close succession. He stood with his hip against the counter for a long time. In Hell, one learned to pass the time without living it. What were minutes on Earth could be hours in Hell.

Eventually, his composure broke. He caught himself against the bar and took his time to breathe. After last night, Lucifer was finally starting to believe Chloe when she said she was okay with his past, with what he was. He didn’t know how to handle it. Tempting as it was to call Doctor Linda, he refrained for now. Perhaps later, Chloe would return, and they could speak.

When he stood tall again, a fresh glass in hand, it was nearly evening. Lucifer sat at his piano, allowing his emotions to run through his fingers instead of his head. His hands spread over the keys, and the taste of fine scotch rested on the back of his tongue. 

Time slowed to normal again, the notes soothing in their cadence and rhythm as he played. He did not sing. Words in any language could not help to express his feelings. His vast repertoire hurtled over the black and white keys, from the earliest works of Cristofori to modern-day songs never intended to grace a piano.

A hopeful smile came to his face as his phone pinged.

_ // I’m sorry. Make-Up date? :) // _

He’d barely finished reading the message before the elevator dinged behind him. Lucifer turned, a smile spreading across his face. “Texting from the elev-”

The smile fell as he cut off his words. A man --a priest-- stood in the entryway, not Chloe. It took too long to school his expression to stillness, to place a mask over his vulnerabilities. It did not matter how long it took to rebuild his world as it slipped out from under him in a moment.

It felt like falling.

\---

**Author's Note:**

> <3
> 
> The show was missing something like this, a moment where Lucifer allowed himself to be vulnerable to make episode 3 hurt that much more. Keep the tissues handy, folks!


End file.
